


Ankle Biter

by candacecandy



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:00:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29848794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candacecandy/pseuds/candacecandy
Summary: There's a new team in the league. They've got a good pitcher.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Ankle Biter

Atlantis is a weird place, and an even weirder place to play blaseball. You've got a helmet, you can _breathe,_ but even in the Bubble there's...resistance. Every action is a bit more labored, every step just a bit more strained.

You step up to bat. You're first; whether that's good or bad, you don't know. It's the Georgias' first game, and you have absolutely no idea what to expect. There's no lighting except for the faint, bioluminescent glow of the flora throughout the Bubble, and even some of the people in attendance, which is a bit creepy.

The pitcher walks up to the mound - at least, you _think_ it's the pitcher. All you can see of them is their jersey, faintly illuminated by a few glowing blaseballs. You can't see their face, but maybe that's good, maybe only seeing the ball will help you focus.  
  
The pitcher steps up onto the mound and turns, the faintly glowing blaseballs hidden by their leg. Now, it is truly dark, and you just focus on keeping your eyeline on where the pitcher should be. Focus. You take a deep breath in, a deep breath out, and...what's taking so long? Most pitchers should have pitched by now, is ther ea chance something happe-

A flash of light. Out of instinct, you swing, but only hit air-er, water. You don't even hear the catcher behind you catch the ball, but you had really gotten in your own head there. As the pitcher steps back, you catch the barest glance of their head, and it's not human. Some kind of slimy skin, but you suppose that, in Atlantis, you should've been expecting a fish person.

"STRIKE ONE!"

Anyway, head in the game, you've only got two more shots at this. You try to ignore the darkness, ignore the creeping feeling you shouldn't be here, and focus. You ready your bat, eyes dead set on the pitcher's mound, determined to hit this one.

...

...

...

A light, brighter than before, shines in the darkness, forcing you to blink as you swing. It's just a flicker of light, but you managed to catch how fast it was moving, this should be at _least_ a foul.

"STRIKE TWO!"

You just hit water.

But how? You'd seen it, if just for a second, there's no way that didn't even graze the bat. And you were listening that time; the catcher definitely didn't get that one, and you didn't even hear it hit the floor. Glancing back, you catch a glimpse of the catcher, looking directly at you, eyes unblinking, body unmoving.

Eugh. You shake off the creeps, adjust your helmet, and focus. S-something's happening, here, and you're not just going to let it take you out. Still, you can't get that image out of your head - the slimy skin, the one, jagged tooth.

Either way, eyes on the prize. Here we go. The pitcher goes dark, and you wait. Patiently, this time.

...

..

The light turns on, and you don't swing. You...don't do anything. The ball, the real ball, sails past, straight into the catcher's glove.

"STRIKE THREE!"

You're entranced. The light, in the vague shape of a blaseball, illuminates the pitcher fully. Enshrouded by darkness, only lit by the dull glow of its lure, is a horrifying monster; thick, slimy skin covers a lumpy skull, two beady eyes atop a crooked mouth filled with jagged teeth. It does not smile as you strike out. It displays no emotion. It simply looks at you, makes sure you recognize that you have caught its gaze, and the light flickers out. 

You drop the bat and walk away, legs straining to move you through the water. Your team attempts to speak to you, congratulate you on a good attempt, but you keep walking. Off the field, out of the stadium, into the vast, open ocean.

There is no light.


End file.
